


I Miss You

by LetMeEntertainYou



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: M/M, Smut, bottom!John, senseless pointless smut, uhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 21:08:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18925051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LetMeEntertainYou/pseuds/LetMeEntertainYou
Summary: Roger’s hand threaded itself through John’s hair, finding its way to the nap of his neck. Carefully, he tugged the hair back, forcing John’s chin up, exposing that delicate neck of his. He brought his mouth to the soft skin, pressing kisses at his ear lobe, jaw and then jugular. It thrummed against his lips, a beckon to latch on. Roger didn’t resist, nipping at it before sucking on it, slow and rhythmic. John’s skin tasted like sacrament.





	I Miss You

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this and realized I was no good at writing smut but here you go. It's kinda badly paced and all over the place but you know what? It be like that sometimes!  
> Thank you to katy perry's E.T. slowed down version for getting me through this since nobody else would help me!!!!!! Bitch  
> Also if you a minor who bypassed the system I want you to know Freddie Mercury knows what you are doing and he's not happy about it. Fock off lil one <3  
> My tumblrs are Disabled-Queen-HC and InHopeIBreathe

John sat at the corner of their bed, head in far off places, eyes blazing like stormy seas. He was so absorbed into his own thoughts, he hardly noticed when Roger entered the room, throwing himself down onto the bed next to him.

John jumped, startled at the sudden movement, his brain ripping back into reality. Upon seeing Roger’s cheeky little smile though, he couldn’t help smiling himself.

Roger puckered his lips, a finger tapping onto them, a silent request for a kiss hello. He’d been gone all afternoon clothes shopping, a task John found more akin to a chore.

John was more than happy to oblige, leaning down and pressing their lips together for a brief kiss. They pulled away, John straightening back up, Roger wriggling to put his head in John’s lap.

“What’s got you all pensive?” Roger asked, able to read his boyfriend like a book. John didn’t seem sad or angry. Just thoughtful. Mulling through things in that anxious brain of his.

John looked down at Roger, his thumb stroking over Roger’s cheek. He stayed quiet for a while, as if trying to formulate the best response. Whatever he was thinking of must’ve left him perplexed.

“I miss you,” he finally said, his gaze going back up to stare at the art on the walls.

Roger’s eyebrows furrowed, head shaking slightly. “I’m right here, you goof,” he said, playfully pushing at John’s chest.

There was a Caravaggio duplicate, a saint in ecstasy comforted by a white linen clad angel.

A dull colored painting of a man, surrounded by plums, one in his mouth, its juice dribbling down his chin.

Besides the window, a blue and pink Jean Broc, Apollo cradling his dead lover, Hyacinthos.

John let out a deep, eyes closing. He placed his hand over the one Roger had on his chest, pressing them together, further into his ribs. “I miss you,” he said again, voice stable but lacking luster.

John was never one to complain or openly talk about his fears and worries. He preferred to bottle things up until he had no more room. Until they burst forth from him without his permission. Roger understood that and understood his words.

He sat up, shifting himself around so that he was on his knees and coaxed John to move closer to him. Once they were face to face in the middle of their bed, Roger’s hands cupped John’s cheeks. He stared into those gentle eyes for a moment before kissing John.

Soft and slow, their lips met. Brushes and pecks, nibbles and sighs. John’s arms found themselves around Roger’s neck, his mind melting as he felt Roger’s warmth against him. Calloused fingers holding onto his waist. Blond hair tickling his nose.

Roger pressed into John, holding him so close they could feel the other’s heart trembling through their shirts. Could feel the blood pumping under their skin.

Roger’s hand threaded itself through John’s hair, finding its way to the nap of his neck. Carefully, he tugged the hair back, forcing John’s chin up, exposing that delicate neck of his. He brought his mouth to the soft skin, pressing kisses at his ear lobe, jaw and then jugular. It thrummed against his lips, a beckon to latch on. Roger didn’t resist, nipping at it before sucking on it, slow and rhythmic. John’s skin tasted like sacrament.

John sighed, eyelids fluttering shut, lips parted.

Roger pulled away, whispering “What did you miss about me?” He trailed his voice down John’s neck, slow like honey.

“Everything,” John replied breathlessly, cheeks dusted in red.

“Everything?” Roger asked, his warm breath on John’s adam apple, a feather light kiss being pressed onto it.

“ _Everything_.”

Roger slipped from John’s grip, the lack of contact making John whine. Roger just smiled as he pushed John back onto the pillows, straddling his hips. He could feel John’s pants straining already, a state he prided himself in being able to drive John to. He didn’t hesitate to grind himself downwards, drawing out a small gasp from John.

While he teased John by slowly rubbing himself back and forth, he worked on unbuttoning his boyfriend’s shirt, even slower. One by one by one until John couldn’t take the friction anymore, whining out a frustrated, “Roger…”

His name never sounded so pretty until he heard it breathed those swollen lips.

Finally, the shirt was off, tossed onto the floor, Roger picking up where he left off. Kisses to each collar bone. One down the middle. A bite to the pec that made goosebumps rise. Another kiss on his stomach. One under his belly button. Another to where John’s torso met his jeans. John was already struggling to breathe, repositioning his hips, expecting his pants to go just like the shirt.

That wasn’t in Roger’s agenda. His mouth found its way back up and up, until his tongue found John’s pink nipple. The moan John made was like bell chimes in his ears, sending shivers up his spine and blood down John’s.

Roger’s tongue swirled around the bud, John trembling, chest blooming pink. He let his teeth graze it, so sensitive John’s toes were already curling. He shifted over to the other one, giving it some attention but not too much. It was a fact they had unknowingly discovered that John could cum from that alone. Roger wasn’t ready for the fun to end.

Roger let his lips find John’s again, John kissing him hungrily. Fingers tugged at Roger’s locks, hips pressing into his. There was a bite to his lower lip that stung, throbbing deliciously and a tongue that rubbed against his own, hot and needy.

With John distracted, Roger set to undoing the button and fly of the other’s jeans, earning himself an excited buck from John once they were slid past his hip and thrown onto the floor. He wished he could stay there forever, their lips locked in a bruising battle, but he had much more important things to attend to, like his lovers weeping cock, staining ever so slightly the straining boxers.

The blond pulled away from John, scooting himself until he was in between a pair of eager thighs. He hooked his fingers under the waist band and brought the boxers down, John’s cock slapping against his stomach once freed, followed by a hiss.

“You’re killing me,” John panted, more than ready to have Roger inside him.

Roger chuckled, calloused hands running up John’s thigh, tickling the sensitive skin, making both of their cocks jerk at the sensation. “You missed me, right?” he cooed, picking up John’s leg from the knee, giving him access to the supple skin he desperately wanted to tease. His mouth found John’s inner thigh, licking a stripe onto the pale skin.

John shivered, a nod the only answer his lust filled mind could make.

_Then you’re not going to be able to get enough of me._

He smiled, inhaling the sweet scent of his boyfriend, fruity and musty, an intoxicating smell that drove him crazy. He bit down, hard, John groaning in response, head lolling in a mix of misery and ecstasy. His pleasure tasted addicting. Roger latched onto the reddening skin, his tongue a paintbrush, leaving behind splotches of brilliant blues and purples across those trembling thighs. He’d paint thousands of pictures if he could on the perfect canvas who moaned and twisted with every stroke.

John’s fingers tangled themselves in his hair, tugging Roger upward. He couldn’t take a second more of teasing. He needed Roger badly. His groin ached with a need the other knowingly refused to answer to. He could barely think. He just craved Roger. _So bad_.

“Needy boy, hm?” Roger hummed, allowing himself to be dragged to John’s impossibly hard cock. He wasn’t going to let the younger off so easily. What John desired, Roger wanted more. So much more. He had to unbutton his pants before they broke open from his own raging manhood.

Without a second more wasted, he kissed the underside of John’s cock, John mewling in response, a prayer of “Please” dripping out of him.

Roger indulged John’s whimpers, taking him into his mouth, tongue swirling over the head. A hiss rattled at the back of John’s throat, his every muscle fighting against the urge to rock his hips upward. Roger wanted to put that will power to the test, engulfing more of John, a hand beginning to pump at the base.

The noises alone could’ve made Roger cum. John could be quiet when he wanted to and bossy when he felt like it. But hearing him whine in that tiny, raspy voice, beg for Roger to fuck him, throw his head back. It was a sight that made Roger’s bones melt.

He couldn’t deny John or himself any longer. He let go of John’s cock with a pop, John’s body tensing up at the loss of that orgasm chase.

Roger sat back up on his knees, taking his shirt off, looking at the mess of a human before him, courtesy of his mouth and fingertips alone. John was panting, flushed, staring right back. His gray eyes glittered like stained glass, sapphire tears pricking at the corners. “Need you,” he sighed, opening his legs, an invitation Roger wouldn’t decline.

His pants and boxers came off in one eager movement, stretching over to the nightstand to get some lube. Roger let out a moan, eyes closing as he applied the lube to himself, the first time that night he gave himself any attention. He had to stop himself, the tension alone making him dangerously close to spilling.

He repositioned himself to hover above John, a hand on either side of his head. They gazed at each other for a moment, their fast breathing syncing.

“I missed you,” John said, his finger pads tracing down Roger’s ruddy cheek.

“I’m right here,” Roger replied with a small laugh.

There was a smile on John’s face which morphed into a gasp when Roger entered him. His nerves vibrated as he was slowly stretched around Roger’s cock, mouth falling open at the painful, lucious feeling.

Roger’s breath grew ragged, the ring of warmth around him almost too much for him. John could make him fall apart with such little effort; it wasn’t fair.

Once his cock was buried inside John, he waited for the okay to move. It didn’t take long for pale thighs to snake their way around his waist, pulling him in deeper and deeper until all Roger knew was that tight heat. Until John could only feel that throbbing dick hidden within him.

Roger almost forgot to move, his hips snapping back unconsciously, craving friction, wanting so desperately to pound into the moaning bassist. He had resisted himself all night. He was done. He wanted to leave John trembling, crying for more, unable to walk for days.

His hips shot forward, the slap of skin accentuated by John’s breathy yelp. He did it again, getting that same reaction from his lover.

His pace was slow at first, each thrust enunciated and sharp. John’s arms wrapped around Roger’s neck, face scrunched up, body swathed in pleasure. It was fantastic, the slow rocking rubbing against every nerve ending, setting fire to his limbs. He wanted more of it.  

He kissed Roger’s throat, teeth grazing against the skin that dripped oceans. “Harder,” he breathed.

The blond rammed into John, hitting that sweet spot that made his back arch almost like a ballerina. He looked so delicate and soft unlike the wild Roger atop him. His hips hammering into him with little sense of rhythm. The guttural growl rumbling in his chest.  The sweat pouring from him.

John rolled his hips to meet Roger’s every thrust, hungry for more of those fireworks exploding inside him. He couldn’t help himself when his legs unhooked from Roger’s waist and flung themselves over his shoulder, wanting Roger to fuck him deeper. Take all of him. Every last inch of him.

Roger leaned into John, bending him nearly in half, his rhythm growing more and more chaotic as he chased that high. The staccato of “Ah”s John was emitting made goosebumps erupt all over his skin. He’d kneel in between those thighs forever if he could, giving into John’s every need, every request. He’d do anything for the moaning and writhing man underneath him.

“Cum for me, baby. Cum for me,” Roger panted, angling himself to nail John’s spot over and over. John was becoming rigid, clenching around Roger as his hand flew to his cock, jacking himself off to do what Roger asked of him. Everything was a blur of passion, their lips messily meeting in a wet kiss, groaning into each other’s mouths.

While the stars outside their window hung in the sky in disarray, the one’s in their room seemed to have aligned, both of them reaching their climax at the same time. The bright light flashed before both their eyes, Roger letting out a cry as he bucked chaotically into John, spilling his seed, warm and sticky into him. John’s eyes rolled back, a shock of numbness and red rolling down his body as he shuddered and thrusted, cumming all over his stomach.

They rode out their orgasms together, whining and quivering, pushing and pressing, the erratic movements of their hips slowing until the stopped, leaving them only out of breath, blushing furiously.

Roger pulled out and untangled himself from John, a hand running through his sweaty hair as he sat back on his heels, taking in the sight before him. John was thoroughly undone, a painting of red cheeks, brown hair splayed out like a crown and bruised skin that even moonlight envied. His chest quickly rose and fell, his inner thighs slick and shiny with Roger’s cum, his face hazy, a far away look in his eyes. It made Roger smile, crawling over to lay next to him, pulling his warm and loose body close to him in a hug.

“Do you still miss me?” Roger whispered, smoothing back John’s hair, kissing his forehead, cheeks, and chin. John’s response was only a giggle. He snuggled closer, burying his face into Roger’s steaming neck.

_Guess not._

Both of their breathing slowed, all cuddled up, noses pressed together, exchanging lazy kisses as the high died down.

John was starting to get comfortable in Roger’s arms, eyelids growing heavier. Before he could drift off, Roger hoisted him up and into the bath. It was the least he could do seeing how utterly ruined John looked. Who knew if he could even walk to clean himself off.

The brunet was placed in the tub, the tap running warm water that washed over him, somehow relaxing him further. Roger was about to leave to fetch something when John made grabby hands at him, beckoning the other to join him.

“Do you miss me again already?” Roger teased with a grin.

John recoiled, shaking his head. “Oh, heavens no! Absolutely not. I don’t want to see you until I can sit properly,” John said as seriously as he could muster, which wasn’t all that much. “It’s just that you’re all sweaty. Come wash up,” he added, throwing a sponge at Roger who caught it, launching it right back.

“Alright then, you have a point,” Roger replied before hopping into the water, settling himself in between John’s legs, John wrapping his arms around Roger’s middle.

They leaned back, neither of them making any effort to actually bathe. Eventually they would. Eventually. Roger opted to grab John’s hand instead, kissing each knuckle.

“I love you, Deacy,” he murmured into the wet skin.

“Love you, Rog,”


End file.
